


The Serpent in the Bookshop

by Amorous_Flammetta



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Arguing, Boys In Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Feelings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I love these ridiculous boys, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mischief, Not Beta Read, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snakes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 02:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20074297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorous_Flammetta/pseuds/Amorous_Flammetta
Summary: After Crowley accidentally turns into a snake when startled, Aziraphale learns that he has developed some hang-ups about it. Crowley decides to give his snake form another go - for mischief and for cuddles.





	The Serpent in the Bookshop

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all,   
Back again, but this time with something sweet and a little silly. This is my first ever non-smut fic, so I am thoroughly out of my comfort zone here! I hope you all find it enjoyable.   
Sordidly Yours,   
Amorous Flammetta

One moment they were kissing in a far corner of the bookshop and the next, Aziraphale found himself off-balance with a large snake about his shoulders. In between the two occurrences, the door of the bookshop had opened, the little bell above it tinkling abruptly.

  
“Ah, hello?” Aziraphale managed, greeting the unseen customer as he looked down at Crowley’s reptilian form, which hung heavily from his neck. He appeared embarrassed, if snakes could, in fact, look embarrassed. Aziraphale also distinctly decoded a look of simmering annoyance on the snake’s face.

  
“Hello Mr. Fell!” a voice called out from across the shop.

  
He recognized the voice. It was of a young woman who visited his shop occasionally. She always apologized that she really didn’t have the money to spend on antiquarian books (she was a broke Uni student), she just liked to look around and enjoyed the smell of the shop. Aziraphale took no issue with her lack of funds, for obvious reasons. He was always embarrassed that he could never remember her name.

  
“What are you doing?!” the angel whispered harshly to the snake.

  
No reply.

  
“I’m going to put you down. You have to promise me you’ll behave until the customer leaves!” he said, beginning to put Crowley down. The snake began to pull away hastily, which was when Aziraphale realized what a mistake that would be. “Second thought, you’re safer where I can keep my eye on you.”

  
He firmly grasped Crowley and yanked him backwards as his nose was about to disappear between two bookshelves. The snake eyed him indignantly as he was hoisted back around the angel’s shoulders.

  
“Now, be a nice snake!” Aziraphale said, tapping him on his snout and walking out from between the stacks to find his customer. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d explain this whole situation, but his time to come up with a plan was running out.

  
Aziraphale found her and she gasped at the serpent. Crowley was alert, head raised threateningly, thick coils wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulders, with his tail trailing down to lightly wrap his right leg.

  
“Mr. Fell!” she exclaimed, recoiling slightly.

  
“Hello!” he nervously replied, looking down at the snake and back at the young lady, “No reason to be alarmed!”

  
“I-I just never pictured you a snake person. Is it yours?”

  
“Ah, yes, you could say that he’s mine.”

  
Crowley was eyeing the young woman intently.

  
“How long have you had him?”

  
“Oh, a long time now. I don’t usually bring him down to the shop. He seems to take delight in frightening the customers.”

  
Crowley’s tail squeezed his leg. He was tiring of this charade and wanted to be alone to change back into his human form. He was embarrassed enough as it is. First, Aziraphale, now this perfect stranger. He didn’t like to be gazed and gawked. Aziraphale continued, sensing the reptile’s displeasure, trying to hurry along this interaction before things could get worse.

  
“- But it was just so warm today, and there are perfect little pools of sunlight coming in. I didn’t think it fair to deprive him.”

  
“What’s his name?”

  
“Erm, Asmodeus.”

  
Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s calf harder, giving an audible hiss.

  
“Aw, he knows his name! Is he… Is he friendly?”

  
Aziraphale hesitated. _No, dear, if I had to guess, I’d say he’s positively irate at the moment. _

  
“He’s just fed, so he should be very docile. But of course, one never knows what’s on a snake’s mind.”

  
He laughed nervously as the young woman closed the space between them, despite his taking a few obvious steps backward. He eyed Crowley carefully.

  
She held out her hand and Crowley extended his neck outward slowly. Aziraphale felt his panic rising. The snake bobbed his head speculatively, undulating slightly from side to side, meeting eyes with the young lady. Crowley could sense minute physical changes in Aziraphale, marking his panic. _Good_, he thought, _bastard angel_.

  
Crowley flicked his tongue a few times at her hand. She raised her hand and stroked his head a few times. Crowley accepted the pats ruefully. He rounded on the angel, fixing him with annoyed golden eyes. Aziraphale let out a relieved breath.

  
“I think he’s quite lovely. I’ve just come to have a short look around. I won’t disturb you. I was on this side of town for an appointment and decided to drop in” the young woman said, smiling kindly.

  
“Of course! Take your time” Aziraphale said, walking over to his desk and taking a seat. He was supremely relieved that the interaction went as smoothly as it had. As he sat, he let out a heavy sigh.

  
Aziraphale began poring over an ancient volume he had just begun rereading a few days before. He was relieved to sit down, as Crowley was a very heavy snake. Unbeknownst to Aziraphale, the snake was doing very little to support his own weight out of pure spite.

  
Crowley lowered his head toward the desk and was eyeing the book as well. In that moment, Aziraphale could not help himself. He absently lifted his hand and began stroking Crowley’s smooth, cool head. His scales begged to be touched, glossy and black as they were. Crowley jerked in surprise, but reluctantly rested his head on the desk as the stroking resumed. Aziraphale felt his powerful muscles ripple under his hand. Crowley’s resent grew. He was not a pet! He was the Serpent of Eden! Aziraphale would pay for this!

  
He hadn’t assumed his snake form in ages. He didn’t feel comfortable with the weight of his body hanging disproportionately off of one of Aziraphale’s shoulders. He began to move his coils into his lap. It was nice and warm there, soft, too. Crowley reluctantly realized that the stroking was rather nice. Due to this unfavorable realization, his annoyance continued to rise. He did not want to like it! He was not a pet!

  
Aziraphale continued to stoke his head, finding the weight of the serpent around his neck soothing, now that most of Crowley was in his lap. He hummed as he read. Crowley could feel the vibrations with his heightened senses. He found it soothing, too. He succumbed to the treacherous stroking and humming, and promptly lost track of time. But that didn’t mean he was happy about it. He rested his strong serpent jaw blandly on the desk and waited for the woman to leave.

  
Somewhere in the shop, a cell phone rang.

  
“Hello, this is Katherine… Ah, oh dear. Yes, I’ll get back on the underground now. I’ll text you when I’m on the train,” a voice said from across the room.

  
_Ah, Katherine! That’s it!_ Aziraphale thought.

  
Katherine reappeared, rushing toward the door.

  
“My flatmate’s locked herself out of the apartment. Must be on my way!” she said, “Goodbye, Mr. Fell! Goodbye, Asmodeus!”

  
The bell over the door tinkled and she was gone.

  
Crowley raised his head and began crawling off of Aziraphale and onto the floor. For his size, he was speedy. He promptly assumed his human form again, reappearing with a finger already pointing at Aziraphale.

  
“Asmodeus?! Really?” he exclaimed.

  
“Forgive me, dear, but I panicked!” Aziraphale replied, annoyed, ”It’s not every day I suddenly find an enormous serpent wrapped around my neck! What on Earth possessed you to do that?!”

  
“I was startled!” Crowley exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

  
Aziraphale hadn't expected that response. They looked at each other for a long moment.

  
“That’s never happened before,” Aziraphale said quietly, tone returning to normal.

  
His neck now felt cool and bare where Crowley had been draped.

  
“I’m as surprised as you are, angel!” Crowley said, his voice a mix of defensive and embarrassed, “And another thing, I’m not your bloody pet!”

  
“What was I supposed to do? Tell the young lady that there’s a wild snake loose in the shop?” Aziraphale queried, arching an eyebrow.

  
“You _could've_ put her in a trance! You _could've_ driven her away like so many other customers! You _could’ve_ bloody well just set me down!” Crowley exclaimed, gesturing heatedly at the floor.

  
“Set _you_ down?! Crowley, you and I both know that you have a penchant for… mischief,” Aziraphale began, “Look me in the eyes, dear boy, and tell me that you would not have loved to startle some poor human by slithering out from behind a bookshelf.”

  
“You think I _want_ to be seen like that, angel?” Crowley asked, lowering his glasses to fix Aziraphale with a withering glance.

  
Aziraphale pulled back, startled by the look. All his words were gone from him. After a moment, Crowley replaced his glasses and looked away coolly.

  
“Thank you for being nice to Katherine,” Aziraphale said quietly, sitting back down at his desk.

  
Crowley looked away, his practiced tough guy look in full effect. He sauntered over to a chair and threw himself into it, slouched with legs all akimbo.

  
Aziraphale eyed him cautiously. He could tell that even behind the sunglasses, Crowley was trying his hardest to avoid his gaze.

  
“I rather liked it,” Aziraphale said, sheepishly.

  
“You _what_?” Crowley asked, the annoyance in his voice rising again along with his brows.

  
“I said, I rather liked it. Having you around my neck, that is,” Aziraphale said, blushing slightly as he realized that this was not necessarily an appropriate topic of conversation. He didn’t know how to make it better. He felt a flush in his cheeks and wished he could take back what he just said. He stared down at his lap intently.

  
Crowley turned his head sharply to look at Aziraphale. His gaze was not a happy one.

  
“I’ve always liked your snake form,” Aziraphale said, looking back up shyly, “I sometimes wonder why you don’t use… Er, inhabit it more often.”

  
Crowley snorted and sneered one of his well-practiced sneers and suddenly stood up from his chair.

  
“Oh yeah. That’ll go over well at the Ritz, won’t it, angel? Yes, table for two please. One man and one great giant bloody snake. Happen to have any whole capybara on the menu this Thursday?” he mocked, his tone becoming nasally and mocking at the end before looking away again.

  
“I’m sorry, dear, but I’m not sure how to fix this,” Aziraphale said softly, “I don’t know what do say.”

  
“I just…" here, he sighed dramatically, "Well, if I’m honest, angel, I’m a bit embarrassed. Don’t like losing myself like that. Don't like feeling out of control in my own body. Don’t like the snake as much as I used to. Giant snake doesn’t exactly scream twenty-first century London, does it?” Crowley asked, gesturing to no one in particular, “And, y’know, the whole thing was sort of meant as a punishment from The Allmighty, so- you know, not exactly something one wants to parade around the block.”

  
Crowley’s expression was unreadable. He was no longer angry and worked up. His tone had dipped to sullen territory by the end of the last sentence.

  
“Crowley, dear?” Aziraphale asked, rewarded with a tiny tip up of the demon’s gaze, “May I – may I ask what it feels like? When you, ah, choose to inhabit that form?”

  
That question threw Crowley for a figurative loop. Not in annoyance or anger, but in pure surprise. Aziraphale had always been curious, but so rarely he saw Crowley as a snake, it never seemed an appropriate time to ask.

  
“Well, yeah,” Crowley mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, distinctly uncomfortable.

  
“What’s it like, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked tenderly, fixing him with an interested, bright-eyed look, “I’ve always wanted to know.”

  
Aziraphale’s blue eyes were soft and curious, encouraging. _Damn him_, Crowley thought. The angel’s hopeful tone was doing him in.

  
“It’s kind of like… Like wearing something you haven’t worn in a long time, but it always fits perfectly. It feels familiar,” Crowley said, hands hard at work in the air, “It’s not the feeling I dislike. It’s just… Complicated.”

  
Aziraphale felt that he was turning this conversation around. Crowley was beginning to open up to him. The angel tried to dial down the enthusiasm he was feeling.

  
“That’s how you looked when we first met at the Eastern Gate,” Aziraphale added quietly, cocking his head and grinning.

  
“Yeah,” Crowley replied, softening, looking down into his lap, “It was a fun party trick back then. I mean, sure made an impression on you, didn't it?”

  
Behind the dark glasses, Crowley's gaze was suddenly very far away. He remembered spying the angel atop the wall, looking beautiful and concerned as he watched the first two humans being cast out of the Garden. The angel was regal and graceful, with watchful eyes. He remembered crawling on his belly up to meet the angel, before assuming his human form. He remembered the look on the angel’s face once he noticed the large serpent approaching him. It was a startled look, but it held no revulsion or malice. The look was curious, an expression of wonderment at this new creature. When Aziraphale told Crowley he’d given away his flaming sword to the first humans, Crowley had felt his heart flutter. He felt as though he might die when the angel shielded him from the rain with his pure white wing. It had been so long since he had been treated with genuine kindness.

  
Aziraphale was reliving the moment in his mind, too. Met with an awe-inspiring reptile that turned into a beautiful creature with black wings and long, curly hair the color of copper and fire. The serpent and the man shared the same stunning golden eyes. He was, of course, ostensibly frightened at making the acquaintance of a demon. But this creature, he was nothing like what the other angels had said demons were like. He was breathtaking. He was intelligent. He seemed to care very much about those two very special humans, too. He was brimming with questions and suppositions, instead of the trite and ambiguous language that Aziraphale was used to. Aziraphale distinctly remembers his heart skipping a beat when he outstretched his wing and the demon inched closer to him.

  
Ah, had they knew then what they knew now.

  
But perhaps, deep down, they already did.

  
Aziraphale stood and crossed the room to meet Crowley. He wrapped his arms around the demon and looked up at him.

  
“It doesn’t matter to me what you look like, dear,” he whispered, “It’s you that I’ve always cared for.”

  
Aziraphale so desperately wanted to say “loved,” but this didn’t feel like the right moment to say it. They knew they loved one another. They had both known for a long time. Saying it, however, was a different thing entirely. Especially given the situation that they were in, forging into uncharted territory in the face of both Heaven and Hell. Yes, the moment for that had to be just right.

  
Crowley’s lip twitched. He did not want to succumb to the angel’s tender words, and was distinctly irritated with himself in advance for doing so.

  
“Angel,” he whispered, as he returned the embrace. Crowley was not so good with open, tender communication yet. All those years in hell will do that to a demon. But he was improving.

  
“You make a beautiful, fearsome serpent,” Aziraphale cooed.

  
“Angel, now you’re pushing it,” Crowley said quietly with a little laugh that ended with a kiss. 

  
After a few days of thought, Crowley decided that he would give his snake form another go. It truly had been an accident on that first afternoon. He still wasn’t sure why it had happened. Had he expected some top bureaucrat from Heaven or Hell to come storming in? Would he have remained in his human shape had they not been kissing when he was startled?

  
The angel’s kind words had won him over. He would try his snake form again for Aziraphale. Only for Aziraphale. He had secretly enjoyed being carried around and stroked by the angel. He wasn’t quite ready to come forward with that one yet, however.

  
Over the next few weeks, Aziraphale had found the black and orange serpent a few times, much to his surprise. Once in the bath, once wrapped around the kettle that had been warmed for tea a half-hour before, once in a little ray of sun at the back of the shop. The first time, he screamed. The second and third times, well, he also screamed. He wasn’t quite used to it yet, and had the distinct feeling that Crowley was issuing payback for the incident with the customer.

  
Each time, Aziraphale’s startled reaction became shorter. He often ended up laughing, bending the give Crowley a few strokes or pats, delighted to see him. He carried the snake around the bookshop, Crowley wrapped securely around Aziraphale’s waist or shoulders, long tail trailing down his leg or tucked into his pants pocket.

  
He thought Crowley’s shimmering scales were lovely and smooth, and that this form suited his golden eyes nicely, too. Crowley would lift his head to Azraphale’s face and flicker his tongue gently at his nose, eyelids, ears. Aziraphale would never say it, at risk of inciting the demon’s wrath, but he found Crowley quite cute when he was a snake.

  
When he’d found Crowley wrapped around the kettle, he lifted him happily and carried him into the front room, walking him around the shop and fussing over him.

  
“Look at you, lovely thing,” Aziraphale said adoringly, “Your scales are positively gleaming today, dear boy!”

  
It was so much easier to compliment Crowley when he wouldn’t deny it or immediately become annoyed and sarcastic. Crowley, likewise, felt more comfortable like this, freely tucking his face against Aziraphale’s neck, squeezing him tightly, wrapping the tip of his tail around his finger. Whenever Aziraphale complimented his scales or coils, he was infinitely glad that snakes couldn’t blush.

  
“I was wondering when you’d turn up, you know,” Aziraphale said, openly beaming as he straightened up the shelves, “The shop was feeling rather lonely today.”

This was something he wouldn’t have said to human Crowley. He didn’t want to seem too needy. He knew that Crowley was a work in progress, and after so many eons of not being able to feel God’s love, the angel was very careful not to overwhelm him with his own love. Angelic love was powerful stuff, after all.

  
On Crowley’s end, it satisfied his thirst for mischief. He loved taking Aziraphale by surprise. He loved his little gasps and shouts when he found Crowley curled up somewhere. He delighted in finding new places to pop up. Once he even manifested in a desk drawer, inhabiting a scaly body that was well under a foot long. Aziraphale nearly shrieked in delight, lifting the little serpent immediately and putting him in his coat pocket.

  
“Let’s go for a walk around the shop, shall we, little darling?” he cooed, patting his breast pocket. He stroked the diminutive demon’s head with a single fingertip.

  
Aziraphale proceeded to tell Crowley all about his day. Nothing much had happened, but he felt much less inhibited going on about nothing to a tiny little thing that wouldn’t respond than he would’ve to Crowley. Crowley was just so… Suave. Stylish. Snarky, at times. Sometimes Aziraphale felt that he might bore him, which, of course, was not at all the case.

  
Meanwhile, sticking his head out of the tweedy coat pocket, Crowley was soothed by Aziraphale’s immense warmth and thundering heartbeat. He was relaxed and happy. He listened intently as Aziraphale talked and talked. Sometimes it was a relief, not having to reply. Crowley often felt that he said the wrong thing, or that his humor was sometimes too biting for his gentle angel. All mischief aside, it satisfied Crowley’s want for physical closeness and affection – something that he had not yet learned how to ask for. He positively thrummed with happiness when Aziraphale carried him around, stroked him, nuzzled him, called him pet names.

  
Truthfully, they were still fresh in this new form of their relationship. Partners. Lovers. Neither were 100% comfortable with it yet, given their long history of being “enemies,” of clandestine meetings hidden from their bosses and colleagues, of hiding their true selves. Comfort and openness were coming little-by-little, and Crowley’s snake form was a nice way to ease the silences they sometimes found themselves in. Silences that tempted them to ask the big questions of one another, to ponder the gravity of what they were doing. Things were going fine between them, of course. But everything was just so… _New_. Much like a dog who’d just caught their tail at long last, once they had what they wanted, they didn’t know exactly what to do with it.

  
Yes, with Crowley manifesting as a snake, even the silences were spent in comfort and happiness.

  
This evening in particular, Crowley strolled into the bookshop, snapping his finger to turn the open sign to closed. No sign of his angel in the front room.

  
“I’m upstairs, in the kitchen!” Aziraphale called, hearing the bells and sensing that it was Crowley.

  
The demon smiled and mounted the stairs to Aziraphale’s living quarters. He saw the angel in the small kitchen space hovering near the stove. Crowley walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

  
“Hello, angel,” he said quietly into the soft flesh of his jawline.

  
“Hello, dear. Just making some cocoa. Shall I make you a cup, darling?” Aziraphale replied, leaning back into the embrace.

  
“No, no. Not thirsty,” Crowley said, lifting his face to tickle his nose in Aziraphale’s pale curls. Had Aziraphale ever called him “darling” when he wasn’t a snake?

  
They made happy small talk in the kitchen as Aziraphale made his drink, Crowley sitting at the small cluttered table. It didn’t occur to either of them how easily this was happening, or how, sometimes, after 6,000 years of knowing someone, the small talk didn’t come easily at all. Tonight they rattled on contentedly and effortlessly.

  
Aziraphale turned around with a big ceramic mug in his hands, steaming and sweet-smelling. His eyes twinkled and Crowley was knocked off balance by the beauty of him. The demon gave a soft “Ngk” as he limply gestured with his hand. He’d meant to say words, but they wouldn’t come out. He swallowed with difficulty, and decided to try them again.

  
“Fancy a snuggle, angel?” he asked with great effort, setting his dark glasses on the table.

  
Aziraphale smiled wider and nodded. He’d noticed that Crowley’s black slit pupils looked a little larger than usual today.

  
“I’d like nothing more, darling,” the angel replied.

  
They passed the rest of the evening in an overstuffed loveseat under a blanket that Crowley would have characterized as “tatty”, Aziraphale reading from an old tome of Horace and sipping his cocoa, Crowley’s myriad muscular coils wrapped all around him. He’d manifested as a larger snake this evening, solely for the purpose of having more coils to wrap around his angel. He was easily ten feet from end to end, thick and comfortingly heavy. More touch. More contact. More warmth. Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s stomach, soothed by his rhythmic, if unnecessary, breathing. Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s cool, powerful back lovingly as he read. When not drinking his cocoa, his mug was nestled against Crowley so he could savor the warmth of the ceramic. 

  
Yes, this was just fine for the time being.

  
A few hours passed just like this, perfectly serene.

  
“Another cup,” Aziraphale said softly, as he could tell Crowley was close to drifting off.

  
Crowley heard him and began to loosen his grip on Aziraphale. The angel cupped the serpent’s large head in his left hand and pressed his soft cheek against it. He was rewarded with a brief squeeze and a little tongue flick at the corner of his lip. He kissed Crowley atop his sleek, scaly head.

  
“Don’t get up, dear,” he said, gingerly untangling himself from the snake and the blanket. He padded into the kitchen and began to prepare another cup of cocoa. He wondered, did snakes like marshmallows?

  
A few moments later, Aziraphale left the kitchen, steaming mug of fresh cocoa in hand. Much to his surprise, he saw a sleeping, man-shaped Crowley under the blanket on the loveseat where the great serpent had previously been. He was sprawled inelegantly, yet somehow elegantly, with his head tossed back. Aziraphale felt a smile cross his face.

  
He gently pulled back the blanket and settled back between the demon’s slim thighs. Crowley roused slightly as Aziraphale settled the blanket back over them. He wrapped both arms around the angel’s waist and entwined their calves.

  
“Hey, angel,” Crowley said groggily, tipping his head back again, “Must’ve dozed. I’m very comfortable.”

  
Aziraphale smiled to himself, glad his partner was finally beginning to feel that way.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! I'll be back again soon with something much naughtier, I promise!


End file.
